


Fun and Games

by enigmaticblue



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-09 14:13:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/775129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye. Or, the Avengers are quarantined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fun and Games

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thomasina75](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thomasina75/gifts).



> Written for a prompt from thomasina75, who wanted the Avengers playing “Truth or Dare.” It grew from there, as it always does.

“This way,” Coulson says, his voice muffled in the HAZMAT suit. “You’ll need to go through the decon showers first.”

 

Tony’s right behind Bruce, and he can see Bruce’s shoulders begin to hunch, tension clear in the line of his spine, and the corded muscles of Bruce’s back.

 

He’s not sure what it means that he can read Bruce’s emotions from his body language, although they _had_ been spending most of their time together over the last six months.

 

The decon showers don’t offer anything in the way of privacy, and Tony tries not to look—particularly at Natasha, because she _will_ kill him. Bruce keeps his back to the others as much as possible, and Tony takes the station next to him, hoping his proximity will keep Bruce calm.

 

Granted, Tony can’t think of anybody else who’s calmed by his presence, but Bruce is a special case.

 

SHIELD has blue scrubs waiting for them when they’re done, and from there, they head straight for the quarantine room in the helicarrier.

 

Tony’s grateful SHIELD isn’t insisting that they have separate rooms, because he knows the isolation would _not_ be good for Bruce. Hell, he’s pretty sure it wouldn’t be good for any of them, but Bruce is the one who could rip the helicarrier to shreds if he gets upset.

 

And worrying about Bruce’s state of mind takes Tony’s mind off the fact that he may wind up dying a horrible death.

 

SHIELD has clearly made preparations for their stay. There’s a television, six cots, and a card table and chairs set up in the center of the room, with a door to a tiny, private bathroom in one corner. The door has a hermetic seal on it with an airlock, and Tony suspects that while the room had been prepared, SHIELD hadn’t thought they’d wind up with six people in here.

 

“I’m not sure I understand the purpose of this,” Thor rumbles from near the door.

 

“Just because you can’t get sick, doesn’t mean you can’t pass it on to someone else,” Bruce says wearily. He’s already staked out a bed in the corner, one closest to the single small window, and he has his arm over his eyes. His fist clenches and unclenches rhythmically.

 

Tony wonders what’s going to happen if the lockdown _really_ gets to Bruce and decides he doesn’t want to know.

 

“Why don’t we play a game?” Tony suggests.

 

Clint snorts from his location by the window, looking out. “I don’t think games are going to cut it.”

 

Tony looks around at the others, hoping to get some help from them. Steve is perched on a cot near the door, staring down at his hands, Thor is still restlessly shifting from foot to foot by the door, but Natasha is watching Bruce warily.

 

“What did you have in mind?” Natasha asks.

 

Tony meets her gaze, and can see his own knowledge reflected in her eyes. If they don’t keep Bruce calm, they’re going to have bigger problems than the fungal infection to which they’d been exposed.

 

Bad guy of the week had wanted to hit New York City, but the Avengers were the only ones exposed. And while Bruce, Steve, and Thor probably _can’t_ get sick, no one is sure whether they could be carriers. Tony, Clint, and Natasha don’t have that assurance, and any of them could wind up dying in the next week.

 

Tony’s stared death in the face before, but he thinks he’d prefer the certainty of death to the uncertainty of getting an illness that could incapacitate him, maybe kill him, it’s impossible to tell.

 

Which is why Tony would much rather focus on keeping Bruce distracted and on an even keel than on his own, possibly imminent demise.

 

“Maybe we should take turns choosing,” Tony suggests. “I’d suggest ‘I Never,’ but the alcohol hasn’t arrived yet, so how about ‘Truth or Dare?’”

 

“I think that’s a terrible idea, for the record,” Bruce says, not pulling his arm away from his face. He’s still hasn’t moved from his prone position on the cot in the corner.

 

Natasha smiles. “I don’t know. I think it could be fun.”

 

Clint gives her a startled look, and they do that unspoken communication thing they’re so good at; Tony wonders if it’s something SHIELD looks for in recruits, or if they train them in some kind of special language where communication takes place only through micro-expressions. “It _could_ be fun,” Clint admits. “Although the dares would have to be something we could do in this room.”

 

“What is this game?” Thor asks, perking up a bit.

 

Tony grins, knowing how to read a room, and the momentum is in his favor. “Each person picks someone else, and that person has to choose—to answer a question truthfully, or take a dare.”

 

Thor grins. “Ah, a forfeit! That sounds like an excellent way to pass the time.”

 

“Steve?” Tony prompts, figuring that if Steve agrees to play, Bruce will have no choice but to participate.

 

Steve glances around the room, and his eyes rest briefly on Bruce. “I’m in.”

 

“Come on, Brucie,” Tony coaxes. “Come play with us.” He makes his tone deliberately lecherous, knowing it will get a rise out of Bruce.

 

Sure enough, Bruce sits up and glares at him. “ _Tony_.”

 

“Truth or dare?” Tony asks unapologetically.

 

Bruce is quiet for a long moment, and then finally sighs. “Dare.”

 

Tony grins. “I dare you to kiss me.” When Bruce’s expression turns calculating, he adds, “With tongue.”

 

Tony can just see Steve’s expression out of the corner of his eye, and his eyes are wide. Clint chortles, and Natasha moves closer, apparently to get a better view.

 

Bruce’s eyes narrow, and for a moment, Tony thinks he’s going to outright refuse, and then he shakes his head and hops off the bed, coming to a stop in front of Tony.

 

Tony raises his eyebrows in a clear challenge.

 

Bruce reaches up, cradling the back of Tony’s head, pulling Tony toward him. Tony expects half-assed kissing, but there is nothing half-hearted about this kiss. Bruce’s mouth opens, and his tongue traces Tony’s bottom lip, and then Bruce’s tongue is in his mouth, and it’s even better than Tony had anticipated.

 

Bruce breaks off the kiss and takes a step back, his smirk indicating that he knows he’s gained the upper hand.

 

Tony is suddenly very regretful that he started this when they’ve got an audience.

 

Steve clears his throat. “Um, who’s next?”

 

“I think it’s Bruce’s turn,” Natasha says, laughter in her voice.

 

“Must all dares involve kissing?” Thor asks, sounding more interested than reluctant, and Tony chokes back his laughter.

 

“No,” Bruce says firmly. “It doesn’t have to involve kissing.”

 

And then, apparently because Bruce likes to live dangerously, he says, “Natasha? Truth or dare?”

 

Tony half-expects her to refuse to participate, or to choose “dare,” but she says, “Truth.”

 

Tony’s played truth or dare before, and he knows that this is the moment that the game hinges upon. Bruce can go with a safe question, like “what’s your favorite color?” and they’ll all be bored in five minutes.

 

Instead, Bruce asks, “Why did you join SHIELD?”

 

Natasha sits down on one of the beds, clearly making herself comfortable. “I got tired of being on the wrong side,” she replies. “And Clint offered me the chance to make a change.”

 

They’re all quiet for a moment, sensing Natasha’s sincerity, and Tony and Bruce settle side by side on the same bed, the one Tony had staked out, which is closer to the group.

 

Natasha finally says, “Steve—truth or dare?”

 

“Truth,” Steve says a little desperately.

 

“Are you a virgin?” Natasha asks bluntly, and Tony knows that she’s out for blood. He’s not sure whether he’d go for truth or dare from her.

 

Steve turns bright red and rubs the back of his neck. “Um. How do you define ‘virgin?’”

 

Tony would have let out a bark of laughter, but Bruce elbows him sharply, and Tony turns it into a cough.

 

“Okay, we really need to work on fixing that,” Tony says. “There is no way I’m letting you die a virgin.”

 

Steve stares at the floor determinedly, and Bruce clears his throat. “Steve, it’s your turn,” he says kindly.

 

Steve doesn’t look at anybody as he says, “Clint.”

 

“Dare,” Clint replies with a devil-may-care grin.

 

Steve gets this _look_ on his face, and Tony realizes that Steve has decided he’s in it. “I dare you to tell the next person who comes in that you’re suffering from symptoms of the fungus.”

 

Clint points at Steve, probably knowing that means tests and needles. “You play dirty.”

 

Steve smiles beatifically. “Maybe a little. Until then, it’s your turn.”

 

“Thor,” Clint says immediately. “Truth or dare?”

 

“Dare,” Thor replies after a brief hesitation.

 

Clint grins. “I dare you to tell Coulson that you really like figging, and that it would be great if he could help you out with that.”

 

Tony chokes on his own spit, and Bruce lets out a snort. Natasha presses her lips together firmly, as though refusing to laugh, and Steve and Thor wear bewildered expressions.

 

“I’m not sure what that entails,” Thor admits.

 

Tony glances at Bruce, and it’s pretty clear from his expression that Bruce _does_ know, which piques Tony’s curiosity.

 

“I’ll tell you after you go through with the dare,” Clint replies.

 

Thor looks a little troubled, but he nods. “I would not go back on my word.”

 

As it so happens, there’s the sound of the airlock opening, and Coulson enters, once again in a HAZMAT suit, followed by a couple of agents in similar garb.

 

Thor looks at Clint, who smirks and hitches a shoulder, and Thor says, “Son of Coul, I really like figging, and I would appreciate any help you could give me.”

 

One of the agents behind Coulson makes a choking noise, and the other looks around the room, looking confused. “We can get figs for you,” she says slowly.

 

Coulson shakes his head wearily. “Agent Barton, you forget that we have cameras in the room, and I am aware of your game. I’m not playing. I’m busy trying to make sure you don’t all die.”

 

Clint actually appears chastised and doesn’t even bother with the lie that he’s feeling the effects of the fungus, but Thor just looks confused. “You know what that means?” Thor asks.

 

“Ask Barton—or Stark. I’m sure they know.” Coulson sighs. “I’m here to take your orders. DVDs, books, music, whatever you need.” Tony opens his mouth to ask if he can get alcohol, and Coulson says, “Pepper said she was putting together a care package for you and Bruce, which you can have after we’re sure you’re not going to have an adverse reaction to the anti-fungals.”

 

“What kind of reaction?” Tony asks suspiciously.

 

“Hallucinations, vomiting, diarrhea.” Coulson’s smile is insincere. “The usual. Play nicely, boys and girls. Remember, it’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye.”

 

They each make a list, and get a shot—with a _really_ big needle that absolutely does _not_ make Tony squeak in alarm—and then Coulson leaves them on their own again.

 

Tony wonders what Bruce is thinking, if he’s regretting the kiss since they’re on camera, and Thor finally breaks the silence. “You promised you would explain.”

 

Clint clears his throat, giving Steve a guilty look. “It’s, uh—”

 

“Oh, for—figging is when a piece of peeled ginger is inserted inside someone’s body, usually in the anus or vagina,” Natasha says briskly. “I’ve heard the sensation is very intense.”

 

Tony grins. “You’ve _heard_?”

 

Natasha gives him a Mona Lisa smile. “Heard.”

 

Tony is suddenly intensely curious as to what circumstances Natasha had heard that much, but he’s also more than a little afraid of her, so he bites his tongue.

 

“I’m not sure what ginger is,” Thor says, clearly still confused.

 

“It’s a root, often used for the spice,” Natasha replies. “And if you want to know more, you’ll have to talk to Jane.”

 

That ends the conversation, and Steve appears grateful for that small mercy. Tony wonders how many times—and just how badly—they can embarrass him.

 

He’s looking forward to finding out.

 

~~~~~

 

The anti-fungals make Tony a little woozy, but Natasha and Clint are more affected. They wave their hands in front of their faces to watch the movement, and Tony laughs at them.

 

Bruce seems looser, more relaxed, but Tony has no idea whether that’s due to the meds, or whether Bruce has turned some corner.

 

Tony’s hoping that it’s the latter.

 

No one seems inclined to play games right after the shots. After they get tired of watching their hands blur, Clint and Natasha fall asleep. Thor seems to take his cue from them and is asleep almost immediately. Steve lies back on his chosen cot with his hands behind his head, seemingly not inclined to talk.

 

To his surprise, Bruce stays where he is, pressed up against Tony from knee to shoulder.

 

“You okay?” Tony asks in a low voice.

 

Bruce shrugs. “I’m okay.”

 

Tony moves his arm so that his hand is resting on the other side of Bruce, right next to his hip. “Is it better or worse having us in here with you?”

 

“Better,” Bruce admits with a slight smile. “I probably would be a lot more…tense. You know, if you guys weren’t around.”

 

“We’re all in this together, etcetera,” Tony agrees. “Feels less like being in prison.”

 

Bruce plucks at the front of his scrub shirt. “This isn’t exactly helping.”

 

“Pepper will send clothes,” Tony asserts confidently. “She’s awesome that way.”

 

“She is awesome,” Bruce agrees. “How come you guys aren’t together anymore?”

 

Tony hesitates. “Isn’t that more of a truth or dare question?”

 

Bruce hitches a shoulder. “Call it truth or truth. You answer me, and I’ll answer one from you.”

 

“She got tired of me almost dying, and she thought it would be better if we went back to being friends,” Tony admits. “Personally, I don’t see how that helps, because it’s not like we don’t still love each other, but it’s what she wanted.”

 

Bruce leans into him, a wordless gesture of solidarity.

 

“What about you?” Tony asks. “Any Peppers in your life?”

 

Bruce raises his eyebrows. “I have a Pepper. She seems to have adopted me.”

 

“You know what I mean,” Tony objects.

 

“I can’t believe that’s what you wasted your question on,” Bruce objects. “You know I don’t date.”

 

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Tony replies. “And I’m willing to make the same barter.”

 

Bruce sighs. “Her name was Dr. Betty Ross.”

 

Tony blinks. “Holy shit. _General Ross’ daughter_? I knew you had a pair, but that’s impressive. Why wasn’t that in your file?”

 

That causes Bruce to grin briefly and look away. “I cut ties after Harlem because it seemed better for everybody. I was never going to go back, and she deserved better.”

 

“You haven’t tried to contact her since then?”

 

Bruce shakes his head. “I heard she’s engaged.” He swallows. “She’s going to have a baby.”

 

Tony bites back the first retort that comes to mind—which is that Bruce must be relieved it’s not him—knowing that it’s not helpful. Bruce strikes him as the kind of guy who might have wanted the white picket fence life if circumstances had been different. Instead, Tony just leans in.

 

“One thing you could go back and do differently?” Bruce says after a moment.

 

Tony gives him a look. “Where to start…”

 

Bruce chuckles. “Pick one.”

 

“As crazy as this might sound, nothing,” Tony admits. “I’m awesome. I’m Iron Man. And I’m sitting next to a really hot guy right now.”

 

Bruce actually looks a little flustered. “Um.”

 

“I would tell you guys to get a room, but I’ll settle for reminding you that you’re not the only ones here,” Steve says.

 

Bruce ducks his head, but he’s smiling, and Tony grins. “What? You want a few tips?”

 

“Don’t listen to Tony, whatever you do,” Natasha says sleepily. “Are we playing another game?”

 

Coulson comes back into the room then, bearing gifts, which almost makes Tony forgive him for the huge needles. There are the promised care packages for him and Bruce, which include clothing, Stark Pads, new phones, and two bottles of alcohol. It’s the good stuff, top shelf, but Tony knows he’s probably going to have to share.

 

But then he realizes that Pepper has sent care packages to everybody. She’s sent a couple of books for Bruce, a bottle of Jack Daniels for Clint—as well as the typical basic necessities, and a bottle of vodka for Natasha, as well as a couple of magazines that make her smile. Steve and Thor get comfortable clothing, and Thor gets mead. Steve gets a pack of cards and—of all things—Pictionary.

 

Steve grins when he reads the instructions on the back of the _Pictionary_ box. “I am going to _clean up._ ”

 

Which is pretty much when Tony realizes that they’ve all regressed to being 12. Maybe it’s the drugs, but he can’t help but laugh his head off, and even though no one else knows what he’s laughing at—because Tony hasn’t told them—but they all join in.

 

But with Bruce leaning into him, Tony doesn’t mind.

 

~~~~~

 

After they change into the clothing Pepper had sent, they take a vote and decide that Steve gets to pick the next game. Steve picks Pictionary—which is actually something of a surprise, since Tony had expected a card game. He chalks up the change to Pepper being slightly evil and knowing Steve well enough to include one of the few things in a care package that will actually make Steve happy.

 

“Two teams?” Steve suggests.

 

Tony grins. “And you’re one team captain?”

 

“You can be the other,” Steve offers magnanimously. “But I get to pick first.”

 

“Sure, go ahead,” Tony says expansively, figuring that Steve will pick Thor, or maybe Natasha.

 

Steve surprises them all by saying, “Bruce.”

 

Bruce blinks, his expression pleased and surprised all at once. Tony gets the feeling that Bruce was picked last _a lot_ as a kid. “Oh. Sure.”

 

Tony pouts, because he’d been planning on asking Bruce first. “That’s a low blow,” Tony accuses.

 

Steve smiles. “Your move.”

 

“Natasha,” Tony counters, figuring that she’s scarily competent at _everything_. Pictionary shouldn’t be different, and Steve can’t draw every single time.

 

“Thor,” Steve says.

 

Tony smirks. “I guess I’m stuck with Clint,” he says, like he’s disappointed. In reality, he’s well aware that Clint and Natasha’s unspoken communication thing is going to work really well for them.

 

Clint glares at him, but Tony knows that his ego can take being picked last. “Our honor is at stake, Barton,” Tony informs him. “Man up.”

 

Clint rolls his eyes. “You’re lucky I like winning.”

 

“Whatever,” Tony replies. “We’re awesome. And unbeatable.”

 

Trash talk is part of the game, after all.

 

They all decide to ignore the board. First team to get ten correct—with the potential for Team 2 to catch up if that’s possible—wins. He and Steve each throw a die to determine who goes first, and Steve wins.

 

Clint looks over the prompts on the first card he pulls and makes a face. “These are all really boring. You know, we could choose our own prompts.”

 

“No,” Steve replies. “You’ll pick something impossible, or sex-related. So, no.”

 

Tony scratches his beard, feeling the stubble he hasn’t been able to get rid of, hiding a smile. “Just pick a prompt off the card, Barton,” Tony says. “Steve’s right. At least this way they’ve got a fighting chance.”

 

Steve frowns, like he doesn’t know whether that’s a compliment or an insult.

 

Clint sighs, apparently knowing when he’s beat, and shows Steve the card, pointing to one of the prompts. He satisfies Tony and Natasha’s curiosity by showing them the same prompt, and Tony gets why Steve winced.

 

Tony’s pretty sure he would have no idea how to draw an avocado that doesn’t look like an egg, so he sits back and grins, flipping the timer over.

 

Of course, Tony hasn’t considered the fact that the only one out of the three of them—Steve, Thor, and Bruce—only Bruce knows what an avocado is, or what it might be used for.

 

The time runs out, and Steve sits down, his shoulders slumped in dejection.

 

Tony gets a phrase—out of the frying pan—and he has no trouble with it. He suspects that Thor thought it’s the hardest one on the list, but even though he’s never gone to art school, he can still draw, and draw far more complicated things than this.

 

Clint and Natasha are very familiar with the concept, and Tony gets as far as the frying pan and a small lick of flame underneath before Natasha guesses correctly.

 

Next up is Thor, and Tony thinks Natasha might take pity on him, selecting something a little easier. Thor still has a hard time with “time,” though, staring at the paper far too long before beginning to draw.

 

Bruce gets it right after time runs out, and then Natasha is up, with Bruce selecting the prompt.

 

Natasha is about twenty seconds in, and her unspoken communication thing with Clint pays off, because he says, “Graffiti.”

 

All Tony can see is half a building and some squiggles, but he grins like he’s responsible for the win.

 

Whatever. It’s obviously a team effort.

 

“Okay, maybe we should pick prompts for each other that aren’t on the cards,” Steve says a little desperately, and Tony knows that Steve hates losing as much as the rest of them do. “Just—it has to be something that team would know, and it can’t be…” He trails off, as though unsure how to explain.

 

“X-Rated,” Bruce supplies. “Let’s keep it PG-13, anyway.” He glances at Thor. “Don’t worry about it. Just don’t include sex acts or creatures that are native to Asgard, and you’ll be fine.”

 

“I’ve got one,” Tony says with a smirk, looking at Bruce, knowing that he’s up.

  
Bruce rolls his eyes. “All right.”

 

Tony resists the urge to tell Bruce exactly what he’d like to do to him, and decides to throw him a soft ball, since they’re up two, and he doesn’t see that changing. “Third base,” Tony suggests, whispering in Bruce’s ear.

 

Bruce gives him a hard look, suggesting he knows the double entendre that Tony’s going for, but he can’t exactly protest. Tony has no idea if Thor knows anything about baseball, but Steve does, and he figures that fulfills the spirit of the rules.

 

Predictably, Bruce draws a baseball diamond with an arrow pointing at third base, and Steve comes up with the right answer with plenty of time to spare. Tony pretends not to see the twin expressions of annoyance on Clint and Natasha’s faces. It’s actually kind of worth it for the pleased smile on Bruce’s face, and the delight on Steve’s.

 

Bruce gives Clint a prompt, and _something_ crosses Clint’s face—almost like he’s not quite sure what to do with it, like there might be another way to look at it.

 

When Clint draws what is recognizably an old-fashioned pump, and Tony hits upon the right answer (pump), Tony grins.

 

 _Game on_ , he thinks.

 

Steve’s prompt is “protection,” and Tony wonders if Steve getting into the spirit of the game as he draws what’s unmistakably Steve’s shield, and then a condom—although not one that’s actually on a penis, because Tony’s willing to abide by the rules.

 

Clint, of course, gets it right off the bat. Natasha is snickering, Bruce shakes his head—but he’s clearly amused—and Steve and Thor look slightly confused.

 

Tony wonders if they’re going to need to talk to one or both of them about 21st century safe sex when Thor says, “ _Oh._ ”

 

Steve frowns. “What?”

 

Bruce whispers a quick explanation in Steve’s ear, and he says, “Tony!”

 

“No sex acts,” Tony points out. “And you guys didn’t get it, so it’s not that obvious.”

 

Really, the condom could almost be a donut at the right angle. Tony hasn’t broken any rules.

 

“I got it,” Bruce points out mildly, but he wears the expression he always does when he’s trying really hard not to laugh.

 

Steve sighs. “I’m beginning to think that Pictionary was a bad idea.”

 

“We could play something else,” Tony suggests.

 

Steve shakes his head. “No, let’s finish this out.”

 

Tony’s team ends up beating them, although it’s not the rout it could have been. The final score is ten to six, and Tony is highly impressed by the variety of innuendos they managed to pack in—everything from thong, which Thor honestly thought was a reference to some kind of leather binding (which is hilarious just by itself)—to grope.

 

Which Steve had to draw, by the way, and Tony will replay that moment in his head forever, because Steve had clearly wanted to go for the sure thing. He probably could have gotten another point that way, but he went with a hand and a lot of pointing, and it never quite gelled for Bruce or Thor.

 

After Tony’s team wins a decisive victory, Natasha says, “My turn. We’re playing ‘I Never.’”

 

“I’ve never heard of that game,” Thor admits, and Steve looks a little confused as well. Bruce appears resigned, and Clint smirks.

 

“When it’s your turn, you make a statement about something you’ve never done,” Natasha explains. “Anyone who has done it must take a drink. If only one person drinks, they must tell the story.”

 

Steve frowns. “You all know I can’t get drunk, right?”

 

Tony raises an eyebrow. “You’re assuming that you’ll be drinking.”

 

Steve looks offended. “I’ve done stuff!”

 

“I guess we’ll see,” Tony says, deliberately needling him.

 

“Tony,” Bruce says quietly. “We probably have at least another day or two in this room together. Play nice.”

 

Tony probably would have bristled if anyone else had made the same point, but since it’s Bruce, he lets it go.

 

Natasha pulls out the vodka, and even though that’s not Tony’s drink of choice, he’d prefer not to waste his good scotch on Steve, who won’t appreciate it.

 

She pours a splash in each glass, and they sit around the table in the center of the room. “Never have I ever ridden a roller coaster.”

 

It’s a softball beginning, and they all drink except for Natasha. When they all look at Thor, he shrugs. “Jane took me to an amusement park. I found it aptly named.”

 

They all laugh, and Natasha nods at Clint, who’s sitting on her right. “Your turn.”

 

Clint smirks. “Never have I ever gone to prom.”

 

Bruce is the only one who drinks, looking very sheepish. “I can’t believe you didn’t go to prom,” he complains, looking at Tony.

 

Tony shrugs. “Technically, we didn’t have prom. We had a very well chaperoned spring formal, which I skipped to hit a home run with Anya Olsen, who was from Sweden, and had impressive techniques.”

 

Bruce raises his eyebrow. “Weren’t you, like, fifteen when you graduated from high school?”

 

“I still didn’t go to prom,” Tony says. He leans back in his seat. “Tell the story, Brucie.”

 

Bruce sighs, but acquiesces, apparently knowing when he’s beat. “There’s not much to tell. My aunt thought it was a good idea for me to go—something normal, you know? I went with a group from Science Olympiad. It was actually kind of fun.”

 

And that—that makes so much sense, and Tony can suddenly see teenage Bruce—weedy and bespectacled and brilliant and completely out of place, trying so hard to be normal for one night, and probably failing miserably.

 

But making the best of it all the same. Tony might be a little besotted.

 

“I’ll bet you were cute,” Natasha says with a grin.

 

Bruce looks pointedly at Steve. “I think it’s your turn.”

 

Steve grimaces. “The point of this is to get everybody else drunk, right?”

 

“That’s one way to look at it,” Clint admits.

 

Steve toys with his glass. “Never have I ever had sex with a man.”

 

Tony glances around the table, and they all are drinking—everybody other than Steve. He gives Bruce a disbelieving look, and Bruce shrugs, wearing a half-smile.

 

“I’m going to need the full story,” Tony says in an undertone.

 

Bruce hitches a shoulder, but doesn’t bother satisfying Tony’s curiosity.

 

Thor’s up next, and he says, “Never have I ever read Shakespeare.”

 

Tony laughs and takes a drink, as does everyone else around the table, other than Thor. Clint’s the one who looks at Tony questioningly. “I went to private school,” he says. “I even did the work. Sometimes. You?”

 

Clint shrugs. “Being able to quote Shakespeare’s sonnets impresses a lot of girls.”

 

“I like Shakespeare,” Natasha admits. “And having a familiarity helps.”

 

“I read _Julius Caesar_ for a combination English and history course,” Bruce admits.

 

Steve shrugs. “I liked _Romeo and Juliet_.”

 

Bruce is up next, and he says, “Never have I ever given head.”

 

“I’m not sure what that means,” Thor says.

 

“It means sucking another guy’s dick,” Clint supplies helpfully.

 

Tony’s rather amused when Steve and Bruce are the only ones who don’t take a drink.

 

“Really?” Tony asks, looking at Clint and Thor.

 

Thor shrugs. “We do not have the same taboos on Asgard that you seem to have here.”

 

Clint gives Tony a shit-eating grin. “You only wish.”

 

Bruce clears his throat. “Tony, your turn.”

 

Tony thinks about it for a long moment, knowing that the idea is to get people drunk, to break the ice, and he’s not opposed to poking fun at himself. “Never have I ever flown commercial.”

 

Everybody gives Tony a dirty look, and then everyone but Thor drinks.

 

“Seriously? Not even once?” Clint demands, looking at Tony, probably because there’s no reason for Thor to fly commercial when he can use his hammer to fly.

 

Tony shrugs. “Never.”

 

Clint mutters something along the lines of “trust fund baby,” but that’s not the worst thing Tony’s been called, and it’s entirely true.

 

And then they’re back to Natasha, who says, “Tony, I think it’s time to break out the scotch.”

 

Since the bottle of vodka is empty, Tony grabs the scotch and pours a splash in the empty glasses. “Do your worst,” he invites.

 

Natasha smiles. “Never have I ever watched _Star Wars_.”

 

Everyone drinks, other than Natasha. “Seriously?” Tony asks her. “None of them?”

 

She shrugs. “I’ve never had the time.”

 

“Put that on the list of things to ask Coulson to get,” Tony says. “Because we’re fixing that.”

 

Natasha raises an eyebrow. “Like you’re going to fix Steve’s little problem?”

 

Steve blushes. “It’s not a problem.”

 

“Are you kidding?” Clint asks. “I’ll take you out. I’m a great wingman.”

 

Steve sighs. “You don’t need to do that.”

 

“Oh, I think we do,” Tony asserts.

 

“No, you don’t,” Steve insists. “There’s a girl. We just haven’t gotten that far yet.”

 

Tony leans in. “Oh, do tell.”

 

Steve clears his throat. “I don’t think that’s part of the game.”

 

“We can take a break,” Tony says. “In fact, let’s take a break. Spill, Steve. You know I can find out as soon as we leave.”

 

Steve glances around the table, as though seeking assistance.

 

A quick look around, and it’s pretty clear that Steve isn’t going to get any help from the others. Clint’s smirking, Thor looks intrigued, and Natasha wears an expression that clearly says she’s not going to stop prying. Tony suspects the boredom is starting to get to them all, and Steve’s news is the most interesting thing that’s happened yet.

 

Bruce wears an amused smile. “I’d give in, Steve. You know they’re not going to give up.”

 

“There’s nothing to tell,” Steve protests. “Her name is Miriam.”

 

“How did you meet?” Bruce asks gently.

 

Steve shrugs. “There’s this little diner near my place I go to a lot. She works the counter.”

 

“She asked you out,” Tony says with a grin.

 

Steve flushes. “Yeah, she asked me out. We went for drinks, and that went okay, so we went for dinner.”

 

Natasha gives him a deeply pitying look. “Let me guess. When you went out to dinner, you saw her home, and she asked you in for a cup of coffee.”

 

Steve looks surprised. “Yeah, but how—”

 

“And you said it was late, and you’d like to see her again,” Natasha continues.

 

Steve shifts. “Was that not the right thing to do?”

 

“Please tell me you at least gave her a good night kiss,” Clint says with a groan.

 

“Yeah, of course!” Steve says hotly—maybe a little too vehemently.

 

Tony groans. “She had to kiss you? Was there tongue?”

 

“I—” Steve stares at the top of the table.

 

“Okay,” Natasha says briskly. “Here’s what you’re going to do when we get out of here. You’re going to call her, you’re going to take her out, and then when she asks you up for coffee, _you’re going to go for coffee_. You’re going to tell her that you have very little experience with women, and if she’s the right kind of person, she will be more than happy to show you the ropes.”

 

Steve rubs the back of his neck. “I got the feeling that was a little old-fashioned.”

 

“Oh, it works,” Bruce says, causing everybody to look at him. He shrugs. “Granted, it only works once or twice, but with the right girl, it can do wonders.”

 

Tony points at him. “You have hidden depths.”

 

Bruce smiles and shrugs.

 

“Okay, I think that’s enough embarrassing me,” Steve says. “Whose turn is it?”

 

“Never have I ever had a threesome,” Clint says.

 

Thor frowns. “I don’t know what that means.”

 

“Three people in bed, at one time, having sex,” Tony explains briefly, and knocks back his drink.

 

Thor drinks, too, although he doesn’t offer an explanation, and neither does Tony. He doesn’t think Bruce will mind, but he knows better than to discuss past affairs in front of someone he’d like to have a current affair with.

 

“Never have I ever broken the law,” Steve says.

 

Tony stares at him. “Never? You’ve never even driven faster than the speed limit?”

 

Steve shrugs. “No, because I didn’t want a speeding ticket. That would be embarrassing.”

 

Steve is the only one who doesn’t drink, and when everyone looks at Thor, he shrugs. “My father’s word is law, and I defied him. Therefore, I broke the law.”

 

“I have definitely driven over the speed limit,” Bruce says. “Among other things.”

 

Clint smirks. “Name the country, and I will tell you a law I broke.”

 

“Same,” Natasha admits.

 

When everyone looks at Tony, he raises his eyebrows. “Do you really have to ask?”

 

Tony pours another round, and Thor says, “Never have I ever run away from home.”

 

Tony honestly has no idea where Thor came up with that one, but the mood in the room turns somber as everyone but Thor knocks back their drink.

 

Thor appears surprised. “Everyone? Jane said that she ran away when she was a young child, but that it wasn’t serious.”

 

There’s a long pause, and Bruce says quietly, “It was serious for me, although it didn’t last long.”

 

Tony has read Bruce’s unexpurgated file, and he has some idea what might have caused Bruce to run away from home.

 

It’s also possible that Tony may have hacked SHIELD to get that information, and he’s not willing to cop to that just yet. He bumps Bruce’s knee with his own under the table.

 

“I joined the circus,” Clint says. “There was a reason.”

 

Natasha says nothing, but Tony adds, “No one noticed when I ran, but then, I lasted for all of three hours.”

 

He means to play it off like a joke, but it falls flat. Bruce presses his knee against Tony’s in turn, and Tony is strangely comforted.

 

Steve clears his throat. “Bucky brought me back. He always looked out for me.”

 

There’s a moment of quiet, and Bruce smiles reflectively. “Never have I ever been to a professional sports game.”

 

Everyone else drinks, even Thor, and he explains, “Jane thought it might be an excellent way for me to become familiar with Midgard. I went to a football game. It was invigorating.”

 

“Who hasn’t gone to a baseball game?” Clint asks, and then glances at Bruce. “Other than Dr. Banner.”

 

Natasha smiles. “I have gone to a professional golf game.”

 

Tony’s fairly sure he doesn’t want to know, and he also wants to lighten the mood. “Never have I ever been figged—or whatever the technical term is.”

 

There’s a long pause, and Clint is the only one who drinks. “And no, I’m not telling you the story,” he says, shifting uncomfortably. “Suffice it to say, I know what it is, and I know it’s not for me.”

 

“Ah, the things we do for love,” Tony says dramatically, hand over his heart, and then Coulson bustles in, still in his HAZMAT gear.

 

“We’re going to take blood samples, and then I’ll get any additional requests,” Coulson says. “I’m working on _Star Wars_. Do you want the older version, or one of the newer ones?”

 

That sparks a brief, but heated, debate between Tony, Clint, and Bruce as to which one’s better. Tony assumes Steve and Thor have only seen one version and don’t know the difference. In the end, they opt for the new one, even though it offends the purists. (Namely, Bruce, who is surprisingly passionate about his _Star Wars_.)

 

And then, when Coulson has gone, and they’re trying to figure out what to do next, Bruce says, “My turn. I say we play Spin the Bottle.”

 

Thor appears confused, but everybody else stares at Bruce—including Tony, who’s surprised that Bruce is the one to make the suggestion.

 

Natasha’s expression turns calculating. “You may be playing with fire.”

 

Bruce grins recklessly. “I might be.”

 

“What is this game?” Thor asks.

 

“You spin the bottle, and whoever it points to, you kiss them,” Bruce explains. “It’s pretty simple.”

 

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Tongue optional?”

 

Bruce seems to give that serious consideration. “Yeah, tongue optional, but lips aren’t.”

 

Clint hands Bruce the empty vodka bottle with a smirk. “You’re up first, doc.”

 

Bruce looks amused, Thor seems curious, and Steve wears an expression of resigned trepidation. Clint and Natasha seem to be enjoying themselves.

 

Bruce puts the bottle in the center of the table and gives it a hard spin. Tony had been hoping that Bruce would give it more of a nudge to increase the chance of it landing on Tony, but apparently Bruce is going all out.

 

The mouth of the bottle ends up pointing at Natasha, and she raises an eyebrow, but a smile curves her lips as Bruce rounds the table. Bruce presses his lips to hers, and the kiss is just this side of chaste and curiously tender.

 

Bruce’s smile is a little bashful when he sits back down, and Natasha turns to Thor. “Your turn.”

 

Tony’s a little disappointed that he’s not going next, but he doesn’t protest. Thor moves a little more hesitantly, but he gives the bottle a good spin, too.

 

And the bottle ends up pointing at Bruce.

 

“You know, if everyone but me ends up kissing you, I’m going to be very annoyed,” Tony comments.

 

Bruce chuckles. “Jealous?”

 

“Maybe a little,” Tony admits, because everybody in this group is ridiculously hot, and while the only one he actively wants to kiss is Bruce, it’s not like kissing anybody here is a hardship.

 

Well, maybe kissing Steve; that doesn’t hold much appeal.

 

Thor and Bruce are good sports; their kiss is brief, but real.

 

Clint’s up next, and as he spins, he says, “I feel as though I’m 12 all over again, even though I never played this game.”

 

“I’ve played with worse crowds,” Bruce admits.

 

“So have I,” Tony says.

 

The bottle winds up pointing at Natasha, and she and Clint share a kiss that’s a little longer, a little more intimate. Tony’s pretty sure there’s tongue, and it’s unexpectedly hot. Even Steve looks a little flustered, watching with interest.

 

Natasha spins the bottle next, and it lands on Steve.

 

Steve swallows audibly, and Natasha leans in, initiating the kiss, and it’s sweet and brief, and Steve cups Natasha’s face with one big hand, and the room is charged with an emotion Tony can’t name.

 

After he takes a breath, Steve spins the bottle, and it lands squarely on Tony, and Steve’s expression almost makes up for the fact that Tony’s going to have to kiss him.

 

“Man up,” Tony advises. “I promise I won’t bite.”

 

Steve grimaces, and presses his lips to Tony’s so briefly that Tony can barely feel it.

 

“I’m not sure that counts,” Clint says with a grin.

 

Bruce laughs. “We could make them try it again.”

 

“I think we can let it slide—this time,” Natasha says.

 

Tony’s up next, and he thinks about attempting to cheat, making sure the bottle lands on Bruce, but he’s pretty sure he won’t get away with it, and everyone else has been a good sport.

 

The bottle winds up pointing towards the space between him and Bruce, and Tony gives him a challenging look. “I think that means you’re up,” he says.

 

Bruce gives the four inches separating them a pointed look. “I should probably make you spin again.”

 

Tony shrugs, nonchalant. “Well, if you’re chicken…”

 

“I think I’ve already proven I’m not,” Bruce replies, and leans in.

 

Tony fists a hand in the front of Bruce’s shirt to keep him in place. He’s hoping Bruce will take his lead on this, and he does, opening his mouth under Tony’s, his tongue sweeping over Tony’s bottom lip.

 

Once again, Tony’s disappointed that there are others present, because he doesn’t want to stop with one kiss, and he drags it out as long as he can, but Bruce finally pulls back.

 

“Now _that_ was a kiss,” Clint says after a moment.

 

Bruce shrugs, but he looks a little flushed. “Sorry, guys.”

 

“No apology necessary,” Natasha insists.

 

The door slides open to admit Coulson. “Good news—everyone’s tests have come back negative so far,” he announces first thing. “If that continues to hold true, you’ll be free to go in twenty-four hours. In the meantime, I have food, and I brought the movies you asked for.”

 

After they eat—sandwiches and chips—they plug in the first _Star Wars_ movie by mutual accord. Coulson’s news that the blood tests are clear so far has drained a lot of the tension from the room, and they lounge on their cots or in chairs.

 

They make it through the first _Star Wars_ movie—Episode IV, of course, not Episode I—but Clint’s out like a light five minutes later, and Natasha, Steve, and Thor aren’t far behind. Tony’s staked out the cot next to Bruce’s, but he’s sitting next to Bruce on his bed because he’s not quite ready to go to sleep yet.

 

If the beds weren’t so damn small—and if they weren’t bolted to the floor—Tony would suggest they share, even if they can’t do anything more than sleep.

 

“Are we going to talk about this?” Tony asks.

 

“I thought we were doing just fine without talking about it,” Bruce replies wryly.

 

“You going to do anything about it after we’re out of here?”

 

Bruce shrugs. “I guess that would depend on what you had in mind.”

 

“You, me, plenty of science, and maybe a chance to cross a few things off your bucket list,” Tony teases. “I’m happy to let you practice on me.”

 

“I’ll just bet you are,” Bruce replies quietly, chuckling. “But I have no problem with that.”

 

Tony grins, feeling strangely relieved. “These beds are criminally small, you know.”

 

“I think I’ve noticed.” Bruce puts his hand over Tony’s where it rests next to his on the mattress. “We should probably go to bed, too.”

 

“Probably,” Tony agrees. “I think they’re all asleep right now, you know.”

 

Bruce pointedly looks around the room. “Looks like it, yeah.”

 

Tony leans in for another kiss at that, knowing he’s pushing his luck, but Bruce welcomes him with an open mouth and clever tongue.

 

“We should stop,” Bruce says after several minutes of kissing. “Or I’m not going to be able to.”

 

“Same,” Tony agrees. “One more for the road.”

 

Bruce gives him a brief kiss. “Bed.”

 

“Definitely go to bed,” Natasha mumbles sleepily from across the way. “Save it for when you don’t have an audience.”

 

“I thought you’d enjoy watching,” Tony teases.

 

“Go to sleep, before I come over there,” Natasha replies, sounding a little less sleepy, and a lot more threatening.

 

Tony retreats to his own bed, even though he really doesn’t want to. He hears the others shifting in their cots, and Bruce breathing next to him, and it’s easier than he’d thought it would be difficult to fall asleep.

 

Strangely enough, he feels safe here, with the team around him, and he drops off quickly.

 

He wakes to the smell of pancakes and bacon, and the sight of Coulson in a HAZMAT suit. “Another blood test, and if things come back clear, I’ll release you.” Coulson pauses briefly. “You were all remarkably well behaved.”

 

Tony groans. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

 

“There were no drunken orgies, and the helicarrier is in one piece,” Coulson replies equably. “Better yet, Dr. Banner is relaxed.”

 

“Go team bonding,” Bruce says dryly.

 

Tony rolls out of bed and straightens his t-shirt, grabbing a cup of coffee. Everybody is wearing rumpled clothing, and Tony can’t quite believe that he’s just had a sleepover with the rest of the team.

 

 “The lab techs will be in here shortly to take more blood,” Coulson says before he leaves.

 

“I think we’ve got enough time to finish up _Star Wars_ ,” Natasha suggests.

 

Clint grins triumphantly. “Ha! I told you that you would like it.”

 

Natasha gives him a dirty look. “What have I said about saying ‘I told you so?’”

 

“Shutting up now,” Clint replies, miming zipping his lips.

 

“What did you say about it?” Tony asks, because curiosity is one of his defining characteristics.

 

“It’s probably better that you don’t know,” Clint says, shifting uncomfortably. “You know how creative Tasha can be.”

 

“ _The Empire Strikes Back_ , coming right up,” Bruce announces, neatly changing the subject.

 

They watch the next movie while lounging, waiting for the next set of blood tests to be finished. Clint and Natasha curl up together on the same bed, so intertwined Tony can’t tell where one ends and other begins.

 

Bruce sits next to Tony on the end of one of the cots. There’s barely enough room, so they’re pressed up against each other, with their arms around one another.

 

The proximity feels good, and while Tony can’t wait to get out of here, he’s actually had a good time, which is strange. He’d have thought he’d be ready to kill all of them after being quarantined together for this long.

 

They watch the movie in companionable quiet, and they’ve just started _Return of the Jedi_ when Coulson enters the room—dressed in his usual suit.

 

“You’re all free to go,” he announces.

 

Clint pauses the movie. “Do we have to?”

 

“We haven’t finished the movie yet,” Natasha adds.

 

“I’d kind of like to finish it, too,” Steve adds.

 

“Can we?” Thor asks.

 

Tony meets Bruce’s gaze, and Bruce shrugs. “I’m okay right where I am,” Bruce agrees.

 

Steve snorts. “I think we can all see that.”

 

Coulson hesitates, and then he sits down on one of the chairs. “Why not?” he asks with a smile.

 

Tony suspects that Coulson is fairly pleased with how things turned out—no one has died, no one’s sick, and they’re acting like a team.

 

And no one lost an eye. In fact, Tony feels as though he’s started something with Bruce, something important, and it feels good.


End file.
